


Slow-Dancing

by groaninlynch (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 17:38:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/groaninlynch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam reflects on the irony of how Dean and Cas' relationship has developed to the point that he'll catch them slow-dancing in Bobby's living room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam had anticipated the eventual development in his brother’s relationship with the angel, but he hadn’t quite seen it like this. How Dean’s relationships usually go about are in jump-started beginnings, him and his girl reacting to each other like a burning candle and the fuse to a firecracker. The end of them is much the same, that firecracker exploding into something beautiful and bright for a second and dying out the very next, leaving nothing but wreckage behind. 

Well, Dean may beg to differ, but that’s how Sam’s always seen it. 

But this thing he’s got with Castiel is different. Which only makes sense, Sam supposes, as Cas himself is different. And that’s putting it lightly.

Up until a little while ago, his brother didn’t even  _believe_  in what Cas was – Dean thought angels, Heaven, God was a load of shit. Then lo and behold, he’s ripped from the depths of Hell by one. Honestly, Sam thought Dean would never be able to get along with the guy. Cas, stoic and straight-laced, trying to get along with someone like Dean, who jokes his way through every situation that’s even remotely serious? Yeah, right.

Yet it’s come to the point where their relationship is actually starting to freak Sam out because it’s making Dean almost…  _domestic_.

For example, one night when they were staying at Bobby’s, Sam got up to get some water. He started to go downstairs when he heard something, like the shuffling of feet. Quietly he crept down until he could just make out two shapes huddled close, moving together in lazy circles in the living room. It was only when he moved a little a closer and could hear humming when he figured out what it was.

Dean and Cas. In the living room.  _Slow dancing_.

Sam hadn’t known whether to laugh or shout in shock, so he just stayed silent and watched. The humming was coming from Dean, some Metallica song he’d slowed down. Cas wasn’t wearing the trenchcoat or his suit jacket. Their arms were wrapped around each other, Cas’ head on Dean’s chest, Dean’s chin on Cas’ head, occasionally putting a kiss on Cas’ hair or cheek. At points they would mumble to each other; what, Sam couldn’t hear, but he found he really didn’t wanna know. 

The entire thing was just so embarrassing, Sam hadn’t been able to bring it up the next morning. 

Dean is still the obnoxious, overbearing, loud-mouthed older brother he’s always been.  Hell, he even still gets pissed at Cas, yelling and stomping his foot like the overgrown toddler he is. But now there’s little looks that Sam catches without meaning to. The affectionate smirk Dean gets when Cas doesn’t understand a joke, the way Cas stares at Dean sometimes with such human emotion written on his face, Sam almost wouldn’t know he  _isn’t_  human. Not to mention the fact that, if Sam thought the amount of eye-fucking they did before was ridiculous, now that they’re together it’s pretty much off the charts. 

Sam decides it’s just plain freaky. Not that he isn’t happy for his brother, because he is. But he resolves to not confront Dean about it, because honestly, he’d rather not know. 

He catches himself drifting to thoughts of an angel he had of his own once, one who would have gotten a kick out of the situation. He would have said something like, _Yeah, I gotta agree it’s fuckin’ weird, but even those chuckleheads deserve someone. And that just means more time I get with you, kiddo_.

Sam can just smell the sweetness of candy coming off him, wearing his joking smile, leaning closer… 

So yeah, it’s definitely a change he’ll have to get used to, between Cas still having no sense of personal space and Dean not really caring about that now. All Sam can do is swallow his own jealousy and feeling of loss, and be a silent admirer of their ever-stronger ‘profound bond.’ Sam just prays to God Dean doesn’t say anything about it first; this really isn’t a talk he wants to be having with his brother.

Seriously.


	2. Slow-Dancing II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel wakes up, and his first thought is that he shouldn't be awake.

The first thing Gabriel had registered was that he was awake, which he was definitely not supposed to be. The second thing was that he was back in Heaven. Somehow. Which was all fine and good, except that he was supposed to be dead. In angel terms, that meant no longer existing; his Grace was to be put into the Earth to help it grow, and he would no longer be. 

And yet there he was in Heaven – a different Heaven, he’d realized, than he’d occupied before. His former haunt had been some pimp’s idea of Heaven, all twenty-six sluts and one virgin, which had suited Gabriel just fine (he didn’t even bother to question how the guy had managed to get through the pearly gates in the first place). But he’d found himself in a place he didn’t recognize, a dark house that was occupied only by postcards on a wall, discarded pizza boxes, and golden retriever that pounced on him, tail wagging. 

The place had somehow made Gabriel think of Sam, little Sammy Winchester, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from checking in on the guy. He’d been pleased to see that the kid was still alive and with Dean, and even Gabriel’s own bro, Castiel. 

Sam had seemed a bit more solemn than before, and Gabriel hoped that wasn’t his doing, had blamed it solely on Sam’s lifestyle and the looming Apocalypse. Because he couldn’t bear to think that his death caused the sadness behind Sam’s eyes, the subtle slump is his shoulders. He just couldn’t. 

 _Once a coward, always a coward_ , he’d mused.

He’d decided to not investigate his own resurrection, because why look a gift horse in the mouth? It was what it was, he’d been brought back, and that ended it. So like that, Gabriel’s days became time to keep an eye on Sam’s comings and goings from his new Heaven, the dog (who he discovers is named Bones, from his food bowl) there to keep him company. 

Gabriel won’t lie to himself about how much he wants to get back down to Earth and have a reunion with Sam; he won’t deny how he misses the human like a limb that’s been severed from his body. But not knowing the circumstances and conditions of his sudden revival, he doesn’t want to risk going down there, meeting up with him, only to have this, whatever it is, taken away from him. Because no matter how much he rejects the idea, Gabriel knows Sam would be completely destroyed if he had to see the angel die a second time.

So he sits and watches, unable to do anything, not even chancing to lend an inconspicuous angelic helping hand in hunts. 

–—

This keeps up for a few weeks, until Gabriel catches Sam accidentally happen upon a moment between Dean and Cas in Bobby’s house. Concerning  _that_  whole situation, Gabriel is nowhere near the area of surprised or shocked. Yeah, it’s pretty fuckin’ weird, but he supposes even those chuckleheads deserve someone. And, while he wouldn’t ever admit it to their faces, Gabriel thinks they are actually really perfect for one another. In a sappy, angsty, lost-puppy-found-its-master, ready-made-for-teen-novel kind of way.

And Gabriel knows Sam had probably anticipated them hooking up at some point too; but something happens to the human after he sights the two dancing in Bobby’s living room (which, by the way, was so impeccably sweet that it even made _Gabriel’s_  teeth ache). Sam pointedly looks away whenever Dean and Cas are together, and Gabriel isn’t sure it’s only out of politeness or even embarrassment. 

Gabriel figures it out when a couple days after Sam stumbled upon the two, Sam, fast asleep, quietly whimpers the angel’s name. Just once, almost silently, but it hits Gabriel, all the way up in Heaven, like a punch. 

Sam, his Sammy, is jealous. So that’s when Gabriel says fuck it, gives Bones a parting pat in thanks for his companionship, and goes to Earth right that instant, unable to bear another second away.

–—

Sam awakens automatically, like just the presence of the angel is enough to rouse his senses. He gets up from his bed, stares at Gabriel, shakes his head. Just stands there, shaking it in disbelief, before he gathers Gabriel up in his arms. No questions, no accusations, no fanfare. Only Sammy’s beating heart against Gabriel’s ear. Gabriel can’t stop himself from melting into the missed comfort of the embrace.

Eventually Sam pulls away; keeping his hands on the angel’s shoulders, thumbs lightly rubbing his neck, he says softly, “You were dead.”

Gabriel reaches up to run his fingers over Sam’s cheeks, his jaw, his lips. Retracing and remembering the all-too familiar contours. Gabriel allows a smirk and replies just as quietly, “And now I’m not, kiddo.”

Sam doesn’t bother to venture into how or why, probably knowing Gabriel didn’t take the time to figure that out himself. Instead he sits back down on the bed, lightly guiding Gabriel to stand in front of him. Sam puts his head on the angel’s chest, breathes in. “You still smell the same,” he whispers. “Sweet as ever.” He looks up into golden eyes. 

Gabriel can see Sam is at the breaking point, so he starts peppering the human in tiny kisses. This is most likely the sweetest he’s ever been to Sam; Gabriel knows he isn’t exactly a joy to be around, what with his love for the elaborate, the loud, the chaotic. He’d never  _really_  shown Sam how he feels, that underneath the sex-crazed bravado, all he’d wanted to do was make Sammy happy and warm and whole. And since he doesn’t know how long he can stick around this time, Gabriel figures he better start getting square. 

–—

Sam wakes up that morning feeling sore in all the best places, a smile creeping onto his face despite himself. He rolls over onto his side to plant a kiss on a certain archangel who decided to finally show up again, only to find him not there. The wave of panic Sam tries to suppress soon envelops him completely when he spies a note on the bedside table. Something flutters to the floor when he picks it up to read. 

The last bit of the letter is cut off mid-word, like Gabriel didn’t get time to finish writing it. But Sam got the picture. He leans over to find what fell. When Sam is grasping a slim feather the same golden shade as Gabriel’s eyes between his fingers, he doesn’t stop himself from crying. And crying, and crying, how he wouldn’t let himself cry after Gabriel first died. Sam is almost afraid he’ll never be able to stop, but he latches onto this feeling, all of his feelings, holds them for him to remember, and he knows this will never ever go away. And he will just have to learn to live with it.

_My Sam,_

_Looks like I got even less time than I thought I would. Hell, I was actually kind of hoping good ol’ Dad would let me stay. But the fact that I came back in the first place was too good to be true, wasn’t it kiddo._

_So please do me a favor Sammy. You gotta let me go._

_I know, I know, how easy can it be to get over a stud like me?_

_But you got to, or else you’ll just keep torturing yourself. And that’s the last thing I want for you. Please._

_I’m so sorry. So, so incredibly sorry. A coward like me doesn’t deserve your feelings._

_Sammy. My Sam._

_I lov—-–_


End file.
